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+| He didn't have any polish so he spit-shined the whole thing
+| until it gleamed like a [tomato on the vine][] that was begging
+| to be picked and thrown on some caprese.  Death loved caprese.
+
+| He stood up to put the horn to his lips, trying to imagine
+| it was a woman he loved.  He blushed as he realized how bad
+| [the metaphor was][].  He practiced anyway for six hours a day
+| in front of the mirror---what else to do with all the time?
+
+| Death looked at [himself in the mirror][] as he played, the trumpet
+| suspended in midair.  _Damn vampire rules_, he thought.
+| He was always worried he might have [missed a spot][] while shaving
+| but he'd never know unless a stranger---he had no friends---
+| was kind enough.  Not that he goes out anyway or meets people.
+
+| He started waking up late, staying in bed later.
+| He started thinking he was depressed.  He never did eat
+| that caprese, and it started getting soggy, green spots
+| spreading on the mozzarella like bedsores.  The sun
+| filtered through the [kitchen blinds like smoke][]. He had
+| to get out of the house.  He decided to go to the arcade.
+
+| When he got there, it was empty except for a boy
+| [with dead eyes][].  So far so good, Death thought.
+| He was playing a first-person shooter, something violent.
+| Death walked past him and watched out of the corner
+| of his eye.  The kid was good.  Death decided
+| to congratulate him.  He had his trumpet in his hand.
+
+[himself in the mirror]: moongone.html
+[with dead eyes]: big-dipper.html
+[tomato on the vine]: wallpaper.html
+[the metaphor was]: leaf.html
+[missed a spot]: january.html
+[kitchen blinds like smoke]: what-we-are-made-of.html